Brethren of the Coast Box Set 2

by Barbara Devlin

  “Jason.” She erupted as soon as their lips met. Licking and nibbling his tongue, she twined her fingers in his hair and thrilled to the passion of his attack.

  Delicious heat poured through her veins, searing every muscle, and charging every nerve. A hint of derring-do, an old familiar feeling, traversed her spine and then spread, pervading every fiber of her existence. Invested with a strength of which she had not known she possessed, Alex ripped the lawn shirt from his body, skimmed his magnificent chest, and charted a course for seduction.

  Where there had been fear, now there was confidence.

  Where there had been hesitation, now there was certainty.

  Where there had been indecision, now there was determination.

  After unhooking his waistband, she drew the most elementally male aspect of his anatomy from his breeches and worked him, hard and rough, just as he liked it. Then she broke their kiss, bent, and took him into her mouth, and Jason lauded her efforts with a lusty groan.

  Pumping and grinding his hips, he growled, and her jaw would be sore, in the morning, but she cared not, as she loved her captain. Then she shifted her attention, just as he reached about her, to wreak sweet havoc between her legs. As she kept rhythm with her fingers, she suckled and laved the soft pouch at the base of his length, and he hissed. Emboldened by the power she wielded, Alex charged his field.

  Over and over, she pressed on him caresses intended to entice and arouse, just as he had taught her, back in Plymouth. But an undercurrent of contrition had tempered her enjoyment, in January, when she gifted Jason her bride’s prize without the requisite license. But things were different, now, and what good was the official document that bound them for eternity, if it had not granted permission for her to behave improperly with her spouse?

  Ravenous with hunger only her captain could satisfy, she stood upright. “Darling, I want you so much it hurts.”

  “Are you sure?” Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes. “You are so wet for me, Alex. So tell me if this is what you want. I promise, if you have changed your mind, I will cease my attentions. I will not be happy, and I may not even be kind, but I will stop.”

  To wit she framed his face, bit his chin, and replied, “Like bloody hell you will.”

  In that instant, Jason all but tackled her. “I want you.”

  “Then take me.” She scored her nails to the nape of his neck.

  “Are you afraid?” He hunched, cupped her breasts, and plunged his tongue into her cleavage. When he grazed his teeth to a pert nipple, she cried out his name.

  “I am a little scared.” Alex gasped, when he sucked hard on her sensitive flesh. “What most frightens me is that it might not be possible to...for us...what I mean is, given my belly is so large, are you positive we can engage in your favorite activity?”

  “Sweetheart, where there is a will, there is a way.” Lifting his head, Jason chuckled. “And I am of a singular intent, so let us improvise in a manner that pleases us, both.”

  “Have you any ideas, in mind?” She peered at the bed and blanched. “As the usual position would not suit, in this circumstance.”

  “As a matter of fact, do you recall the time I took you at the kitchen table, in the cottage?” He arched a brow.

  “Of course.” Alex had an epiphany. “Fetch the Sheraton chair from our sitting room, as it is the perfect height.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He sketched a mock salute, as had the Jolly Roger, jutting proudly from its nest of blonde curls. In play, she placed a chaste kiss on the plumb-shaped tip, and he narrowed his stare. “Woman, you make me tremble.”

  “Hurry back.” With a giggle, she located the other item she required. Beneath her vanity rested a footstool, and she kicked it into the center of the room, just as her husband carried in the requested piece of furniture. “Set it here.”

  He glanced at the floor and then pinned her with a heated stare. “Alex, you are a genius.”

  “Now take off your breeches and make love to me.” She gave him her back, stepped onto the stool, and bent forward, using the chair as a base, of sorts. “Please, Jason. I can wait no longer.”

  Biting her lip, she focused on the sliver of moonlight, which peeked through a separation in the drapes. The silvery ray seemed to shimmer in the air, and it cast a dagger-like silhouette, similar to the particular protuberance her husband prepared to deploy, on the carpet. So entranced by the mystical sight, she started when her captain settled his warm hands on her hips.

  “Are you ready, love?” He caught the crest of her ear with his teeth, as he pressed his erection to the cleft of her bottom.

  “Yes.” She dropped her head back, as he curled about her and nuzzled her neck.

  “Spread your legs just a tad, angel.” When she obeyed, he probed the pliant flesh at the apex of her thighs and then pushed forward, inch by glorious inch. Seated to the hilt, he held perfectly still and exhaled, and she moaned. “Are you in pain? Have I hurt you?”

  “No.” Had she any reservations, his concern for her welfare vanquished them. “Jason, I beg you—move.”

  Hugging her close, he splayed one hand over her belly, as his other played an arresting duet with the gem of her desire, in time with his thrusts. In a gentle slip and slide, he set a conservative cadence, marked by the audial slap of skin against skin, mixed with her pants and sighs and his guttural grunts, which drove her to the brink of euphoria.

  Together, they soared, reaching as one entity for the succulent pinnacle of their consummation. Alex claimed her prize, first. With an ear-splitting scream, she shattered, as wave upon luxurious wave of pure pleasure cascaded over her. And just as she descended to reality, Jason gripped her derriere, gave vent to a primal bellow, and pulsed repeatedly.

  Then, to her chagrin, tears flowed.

  “Did I injure you, sweetheart?” He loosened his hold, but she stayed him.

  “No.” She pulled his arms tighter about her.

  “Then why do you cry?” Jason pressed his cheek to hers.

  “Because I have long dreamed of this day, and I can scarcely believe it has happened.” In that instant, the naïve society maiden yielded to the woman, the wife, and the expectant mother Alex had become, and she wept, as she clutched his wrist and brought his knuckles to her lips. “At last, our vows are unimpeachable, and I am yours—irrefutably.”

  #

  In the wee hours just before dawn, Jason stirred. Confusion had him shaking his head, as he discovered himself in the master suite, given he had spent a few recent nights in a guestroom. When he realized he curled up to his bride, his chest to her back, with their bodies joined, he thought he lingered in a most cherished dream.

  Then the babes kicked beneath his palm, which he had splayed protectively over his wife’s abdomen, at some point, as he had slept, and images from their multiple fiery couplings flooded his consciousness. As his children moved, Alex sniffed and shifted. Then she grasped his wrist, drew his hand to her mouth, and kissed his fingertips.

  “I love you.” With a sigh, she stilled, and her breath came in a steady rhythm, as she returned to slumber.

  Her declaration, freely spoken, touched him more than he was willing to admit, to himself or anyone else, and he hugged her closer. Bent forward, with his flesh encased in hers, and his arms wrapped about her belly, swollen with the fruit of his seed, Jason had never felt more a man in his life. Yet he had struggled to utter the elementary phrase.

  They were but three simple words, when voiced on their own. But articulated together, the proclamation expressed the single most important commitment known to humanity and possessed the power to reduce the most stalwart man into a blithering nincompoop. So he had practiced as an actor preparing to take the stage on Drury Lane.

  In that moment, Jason rode a heady tide of emotion he could not explain, define, or control. “I love you, too.”

  And so it was done.

  For the first time in his life, he declared himself to a woman, but she was not just anyone
. She was his lady, his wife—his Alex. A tidal wave of sentiment trapped him somewhere between heaven and hell, and he pumped his hips, in search of distraction. Again and again, he found sanctuary in her honey harbor, until she reached behind and squeezed his arse.

  “Did I hurt you, angel?” He halted.

  “Oh, no.” Then she skimmed his thigh and wiggled her bottom. “I am hungry.”

  “Shall I raid the kitchen?” Deuced rotten luck, as her needs took precedence over his. “I wager the staff remains abed, as the hour is early, but I can fetch something to satisfy you.”

  “Perhaps, later, I might want food.” Once more, she shimmied. “Right now, my naughty captain, I crave you.”

  “Darling Alex, I am so glad I married you.” So he gave her what she wanted, savored her feminine crescendo worthy of Handel, and found comfort in release.

  “That was wonderful.” Alex twined her fingers in his. “Do you suppose this is what some refer to as wedded bliss?”

  “Could be true.” With a chuckle, he nipped her shoulder. “As I feel mighty blissful, right now.”

  “Promise me something.” She drew imaginary circles on his arm, as he held her.

  “Anything, sweetheart.” How Jason wished he could muster sufficient courage to declare himself when she was fully awake and alert.

  “Promise me we will always be like this.” She stretched her legs and then tucked them to his. “While I know we do not enjoy the same relationship as our married friends, and I am learning to settle for what we have, I pray you will always want me, in your bed.”

  “Alex, I hope this does not lessen your opinion of me, as a man, but I have had no other woman, since I met you.” He understood too well what she had meant by learning to settle, and it irritated him. “I want you and none other, as long as we both shall live.”

  “Do you mean that?” She turned and peered at him. “Or do you say it because you think it is what I want to hear?”

  “Do you doubt me?” Jason propped himself on an elbow. “Because I am deadly serious. No doxie, or otherwise, has docked between my sheets, from the moment we waltzed in the Richmond’s ballroom, as you, alone, hold my interest.”

  “Really?” she asked, in a small voice, and he sensed underlying fear and trepidation.

  “When I am aboard ship, and longing for home, yours is the face I conjure, as you are home, to me.” No, Jason could not say the words she most wanted to hear, but he could describe what he felt for her. “When the enemy bears down, firing cannon shot in my wake, yours are the arms I imagine, as you are my strength. And when I am alone, and death nips at my heels, I invoke your glowing countenance, as you are life, to me.”

  “Never has anyone said anything so lovely to me.” Alex cupped his cheek. “And I would have you know that I—” With a sharp intake of breath, she scrunched her face and clutched his hand.

  “What is it, love?” He eased his length from her body and sat upright. “Are you all right?”

  “I am not sure.” Gasping for air, she sank her teeth into her clenched fist. “Jason, I want you to know that I—”

  Now his wife cried out and wrenched hard, in a tangle of linens. In an effort to soothe her, he jumped from the four-poster, donned his robe, and ran to the opposite side of the bed. “Alex, what is wrong? Is it the babes?”

  Coughing and wheezing, she hugged her belly. “I think—oh.”

  “Easy, angel.” After fluffing her pillows and helping her into a more comfortable position, he trod to the side wall and yanked the bellpull.

  As tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, his bride gritted her teeth, and he would have done anything to ease her suffering. “Jason, send for the doctor.”

  #

  “Here, darling.” Jason draped one of his robes about her shoulders, and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. “Tom rode into town to fetch the physician, and they should be here, any minute. And Miss Phipps is preparing tea and a light breakfast.”

  “But I am feeling much better, and the pain has stopped.” Alex giggled, as her husband fussed over her health and welfare, and she quite adored her excessively solicitous captain. “And I could eat your stallion, as I am starved after our night of debauchery.”

  “Sweetheart, this is no time for jokes.” It was then she noted the perspiration beaded on his brow.

  “Who is joking, as you exercised me, quite thoroughly?” She clucked her tongue. “But I am not complaining.”

  A knock at the door had her covering her mouth, just as Dr. Studly entered the chamber. “Mrs. Collingwood, how are you this morning?”

  “Who in bloody hell are you?” Jason stormed into the path of the young, very handsome doctor.

  “Dr. Robert Studly, at your service.” The physician extended his hand. “You must be Mr. Collingwood—”

  “Captain Collingwood, and how old are you?” With a lethal scowl, Jason rested fists on hips. “How long have you been in practice?”

  “I began my study of medicine at age eighteen, under my father’s tutelage, completed my education at Guy’s Hospital in Southwark, and I am thirty-three.” Dr. Studly set his black bag on the bedside table and shrugged from his coat. “Now, if you would be so kind as to vacate the room, I shall wash, and then I will examine Mrs. Collingwood.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Brooding and beautiful, in his skintight breeches and flowing lawn shirt, her husband scoffed. “If you think I am leaving you alone, with my wife, then you—”

  “Jason, stop it, this instant.” Propped on a mountain of pillows, Alex opened the robe, so the physician could commence the checkup.

  “Captain Collingwood, regardless of my youthful appearance, I assure you, I am a professional.” At the basin, Dr. Studly rolled up his shirtsleeves, poured water into the bowl, and soaped his hands. “But if you insist on attending the appointment, then you must not interfere with my duties, as you would impede my ability to assess your wife’s condition, as well as that of your children.”

  As Dr. Studly conducted a thorough evaluation, Jason huffed and puffed from the opposite side of the bed. At last, Alex reached for him and squeezed his fingers, but her husband frowned at the physician.

  “It is false labor.” Dr. Studly returned the tools of his trade to his bag. “What were you doing when the contractions began?”

  Gulping, Alex glanced at Jason, and his eyes widened. Then he flinched and gazed at the ceiling. So much for her chivalrous knight.

  “I lounged abed.” Oh, how her cheeks burned, as salacious vignettes flashed in her brain. “As the captain and I enjoyed a relaxed morning.”

  “How peculiar.” The physician scratched his chin. “False labor is usually brought about by overexertion, excitement, or a combination, thereof.”

  “Really?” Alex mustered a nervous laugh. “How odd.”

  “Did we—I mean, were the babes harmed?” Jason’s face flushed. “And what of my wife? Is she injured?”

  “I am happy to report her ladyship is in fine fettle.” Dr. Studly wrinkled his nose, as he collected his bag and hat. “However, as she is very near her time, I recommend confining her ladyship to bed, Captain.”

  “What?” She sat upright, drew the covers over her belly, and nodded, as Jason adjusted a pillow. “For how long?”

  “Until you give birth, my lady.” The good doctor cast her an expression of sympathy.

  “You can’t be serious. Dr. Studly, please, is there not an easier way?” The nursery needed a final review, and Alex intended to make love to her husband, all afternoon. “You know not what you ask of me.”

  “Fret not, your ladyship.” Dr. Studly checked his timepiece. “Given the length and magnitude of your false labor, I expect you will deliver at any moment.”

  “Any moment?” Jason leaped from the mattress, paled, and slumped against the footboard. “Are you leaving?”

  “Calm yourself, Captain Collingwood. Childbirth can be a very tedious process, and the entire affair can take hours.” At the door, the
physician peered over his shoulder. “I promise, when you have need of my services, you will have ample opportunity to send your man, and I shall remain at the ready.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Studly.” Alone with her sailor, she slipped free of the robe, tossed it to the floor, and licked her lips. “This is so unfair. Whatever shall I do, while locked in our room, as it is early, yet?”

  “Well I know what you will not do, as I ought to be horsewhipped for waylaying you, last night—and in the wee hours, this morning.” After retrieving the discarded garment, Jason attempted to clothe her. “What the deuce was I thinking?”

  “I beg to differ, my lusty captain, as I loved every minute of it.” She wriggled as he tried to drape the silk garment over her shoulders. “And do you regret consummating our vows?”

  “Alex—”

  “Jason.” She mocked his sigh.

  “I regret nothing, as I cannot resist you, when you are as accommodating as you were last night.” At last, he relented and abandoned the robe. “And I have been trying to get under your skirts since we married.”

  “Jason Collingwood, I like the way you think.” And her confidence soared, as she rested her palm to his flat belly and then she skimmed her hand lower, to squeeze a telltale bulge.

  “Stop that.” He leaped beyond reach, as if she had set fire to his breeches. Wagging a finger, her suddenly shy husband grimaced. “You heard what Dr. Studly said. We are not to excite you.”

  “Too late, as I burn for you.” Biting her lip, she inclined her head. “Will you not climb between the sheets and suffer with me?”

  “No.” Utter panic invested his visage.

  “All right.” Alex threw back the blankets. “If you think I am going to sit here, alone, all day, you are mistaken. And if you refuse to entertain me, than I shall fend for myself.”

  “Stay in bed.” Gritting his teeth, Jason stomped to the edge of the mattress, grasped the end of the counterpane, and tucked it beneath her chin. “If you have need of me, you have only to ask. But I do not see what I can provide by way of amusement.”